HIDE (Boys Of Darlington Academy Book 1)

by D. V. EEDEN

  Sighing, I answer, “I am kind of busy.”

  “I thought everyone went home this weekend. I wasn’t expecting to hear music from the hallway and find you dancing in here,” he grins, raking his gaze over my body and making me feel exposed. I shudder.

  There really isn’t anything left to the imagination with the leotard hugging every curve of my body. My heart races with the proximity of Royce affecting me in a different way. It’s exhausting.

  “Well I am a foreign exchange student, remember. I don’t have a home,” I murmur, grabbing my stuff so that I can leave. Royce grabs my wrist to stop me from leaving the room, but I yank it out of his hand and scurry away as fast as I can.

  “I must say, you have amazing body,” he shouts from behind me and I don’t look back.

  I walk as fast as I can back to my dorm to try and get away from Royce. Realizing that it’s already half past six in the evening, I haven’t packed, showered, or studied.

  Passing the door to the tunnels on my way to my room, I see the door is ajar. “What the fuck,” I whisper. Someone has clearly used it again. I wonder if someone uses the tunnels as a short cut to Club Envy. Then again, there were other locked doors, so maybe they used one of them. I still want to find out why the tunnels from Darlington lead to a club of all places. I doubt the club was there hundreds of years ago when the castle was built. Maybe it is a coincidence?

  This is why I need that job as a bartender, so I can investigate. Why of all things does one of my traits need to be being nosy?

  Back at the dorm I have a shower and pack my bags. Before I know it, Steve texts me to let me know he’s here. I make my way to the courtyard to meet him, really hoping that I do not bump into Royce again. I don’t want him to see me being picked up in a chauffeured Bentley and have him snooping around my life. Father would literally kill me. Steve opens the door behind the passenger seat for me and packs my bag in the boot.

  “How was your first week Miss Adelaide?” he asks, glancing at me through his rear mirror.

  “It was okay thank you, still trying to get used to everything,” I respond bluntly, not really wanting to make conversation, even though he seems nice enough. Steve is a big guy. His persona is intimidating and unapproachable, which makes me wonder what his past profession would have been, to now be chauffeuring my father and occasionally me around. I must admit that he’s a good-looking guy too. He has the whole rugged bad boy look. I wouldn’t fancy getting on the wrong side of him.

  Forty-five minutes later, we pull up to my father’s mansion and Steve uses a fob to automatically open the gates, which must be new, as last time he had to intercom through. On the right as we enter the estate, I notice a little hut with a security guard sitting inside. As we drive past, he gives Steve a curt nod. I wonder why my father has all this security. I know he’s a billionaire, but he isn’t a celebrity of any sort.

  Once I get into the house, Mrs. Blossom is standing at the grand staircase waiting for my arrival. “Dinner will be served at nine this evening Miss Adelaide. I hope you have settled in at Darlington Academy,” she says with a soft smile before picking up my bag and making her way up the stairs to the west wing, where my room is located.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Blossom,” I shout back at her so that she can hear me from the top of the stairs. I come to a decision to find the kitchen and get myself a drink. I might even have a snoop around the house. The last time I was here I didn’t have a chance to explore, so why not now?

  I manage to find the grand kitchen, in the shape of a big U with an island in the middle. The breakfast bar is strategically placed to look toward the floor to ceiling windows, overlooking vast gardens and a lake. The counter tops are made out of a glittering marble and the cupboards are all painted in a pebble cream. An enormous silver range cooker catches my eye, where a chef is cooking tonight’s dinner. The old Italian-speaking man looks directly at me and then tries to shoo me out of his kitchen. I hold out my hands in surrender to apologize.

  “Hi, sorry I just wanted a drink,” I say to him, hoping that he understands, as I don’t speak a word of Italian. A lady standing at the island, cutting vegetables, gestures for me to sit down on one of the tall stools at the breakfast bar, and I oblige. I don’t really want to say no to a lady with a very sharp knife in her hand.

  “What drink can I get you Miss Adams?” she says once I’ve taken my seat. Why is everyone calling me Miss Adams for Christ’s sake?

  “Please call me Adelaide,” I insist with an edge to my voice. Hopefully, she gets the idea that it pisses me off. “I’ll have a glass of orange juice, if you have any, please.” Nothing is better than a fresh glass of OJ. The lady - who’s name I’m still not aware of - pours me a fresh glass of orange juice from the American style fridge and hands it over to me before getting back to cutting the vegetables. She looks young, possibly even my age, wearing the classic kitchen staff uniform in black, her blonde hair tucked up in a black cap.

  “So, what’s your name?” I directly ask her No point beating around the bush.

  “It’s Sally, Miss Adelaide,” she instantly replies with a soft smile and I down my drink in a few gulps. “Well, nice to meet you Sally, I’m off to explore more of this palace my father calls home.” I smile back at her, leaving my empty glass on the side. I leave the kitchen and end up in a narrow hallway, following the direction of where I can see the most natural light.

  “Wow.”

  My jaw literally drops to the floor as I walk into the ballroom and catch my breath. The room is easily bigger than a normal house. The floor is so white, glistening from the natural sunlight coming through the French windows. Three large crystal chandeliers hang from the tall ceilings, gleaming with every stroke of light. At the other end of the ballroom, a dais is situated where I’m guessing the performances take place.

  I stroll through the room, out of the French doors and onto an outside balcony that looks over the botanical gardens and fountains. Who knew my father lived this lavish lifestyle and couldn’t be bothered to see his own daughter or support his family?

  I do wonder if he has another wife or maybe other children. Maybe he treats them better. If I’m honest to myself, I am coming up with different conclusions and have never been told the full story.

  I head back inside and go to my room as dinner will be served soon and I don’t want to be late. The entrance I used to walk in must have been the staff entrance, as a fancier looking door leads straight behind the grand staircase. This must be where the guests come through.

  After having an amazing bubble bath in my whirlpool bathtub, and blow-drying my hair, Mrs. Blossom has left me a black box with a note on the top on the bed. I open the note. “For Dinner, - Father,” I read out loud. I open the box to find a red lace cocktail dress, which is way too posh for me.

  “What a lovely dress, Miss Adelaide,” Mrs. Blossom says from the doorway, as she enters my bedroom. “You will look stunning,” she says excitedly. She wanders into my bedroom and picks up the clothes I wore earlier, putting them into a washing hamper and replaces my towels. Mrs. Blossom places the dirty washing hamper near my door and heads towards my wardrobe, picking out a pair of black heels.

  “Oh my God,” I shriek, seeing the pair that Mrs. Blossom pulls out. “Those are Louboutin’s.” I can’t contain my excitement. I quickly put them on to see what they look like. I mean, I know they are just black heels, but they are beautiful, and I finally have a pair of my own.

  “Yes dear, most of your clothing and shoes are expensive name brands. Your father always wants you presentable.” She looks at me through the mirror as I twirl and pose with just my shoes and underwear. You don’t wear these shoes, they wear you.

  Slipping on the red lace dress, I give myself a once over in the mirror, my face scrunching up in displeasure. “I really hate this dress,” I huff. I look like an old lady trying too hard.

  “Dear, I think you look lovely.” Mrs. Blossom brushes my shoulders and gives me a reassuring
squeeze. I wonder why my father wants me all dressed up for a pointless dinner. Unless he has invited guests, which he could have warned me about.

  Mrs. Blossom leads me down the grand staircase and into the study where my father is already standing, looking out the window as he takes a call with a tumbler of whiskey in hand. Mrs. Blossom leaves, shutting the door behind her, so all I do is wait. Father notices my reflection in the window and shuts the call off straight away.

  “Ah Darling, I hope you are pleased with the dress. You look like a lady for once,” he says, patronizing me. He takes a seat on one of the leather upholstered chairs and crosses his left leg over the other, gesturing for me to sit down opposite him. I sit, taking in my surroundings. The whole study is surrounded by bookshelves. Maybe it’s a decoration thing.

  “Do you read?” I ask him, trying to make some sort of conversation in an attempt to get to know him. I have no idea what his interests or hobbies are. All I get from him is that he is strictly business.

  That reminds me, I don’t even know what business my father even does. Shall I ask him or just wait for him to tell me?

  “I read all these books a while ago, but now they are simply for decoration,” his voice comes out rough as he gulps down the rest of his whiskey. I respond with a curt nod and look straight back into my lap. My palms are sweating so much right now.

  “We are just waiting for our guests to arrive and then dinner will be served.” He stands up, sauntering over to the little bar in the corner of the room where all his drinks are displayed in crystal decanters. He pours himself another glass, also filling a second one. He offers me the drink and I instantly take it. I am going to need it to get through this evening.

  “How was your first week at the academy?” he asks, sitting back down and observes me.

  Do I tell him it’s been a living hell or just let this one go?

  “It was okay, I am still trying to settle in,” I lie. I gulp down my whiskey and put the glass down on the little table with a coaster. I wipe my hands down on the dress to get rid of the excess sweat and my father stares at me, with calculating eyes.

  “I heard a nasty little rumor got around, I hope it’s not true,” he hisses.

  Shit, how did he find out about a stupid rumor at my school? Unless someone has been informing him.

  “It was a stupid rumor some idiot started on the new girl. I am sure this happens all the time. I haven’t even retaliated.” I roll my eyes at him, instantly noticing the anger flash in his eyes. My throat suddenly feels dry and scratchy.

  “This is exactly why I did not want you going to the academy and tarnishing my last name,” he snaps, leaning forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, waiting for me to look directly into his eyes.

  “It won’t happen again,” I whisper, my body shaking. I give up, no point trying to defend myself to someone who doesn’t know me.

  “Dinner is served,” a gentleman announces, breaking the tension as he enters through a door opposite the one I entered through - This one must lead through to the dining room. I follow his lead, and I’m met by the unnerving eyes of all the guests already seated, following me all the way to my seat.

  Silence fills the room until my father is the last to be seated. All the guests are male with no female in sight, which means I’m on my own, and my heartbeat has tripled in beats. The young man who called us in for dinner offers red wine to everyone sitting at the table and I instantly pick my glass up for him to fill it. I don’t normally like red wine, but this occasion fucking calls for it.

  “Gentleman, may I please introduce my daughter Adelaide. She has recently moved back to England from South Africa,” my father introduces me, the guests whispering their greetings. I just smile and give a small wave to everyone before finishing off my wine, then gesturing to the waiter for more.

  The whole room gets loud again as they converse about business and I couldn’t be more disinterested. The gentleman haven’t even introduced themselves, ignoring me for most of the evening. My only guess is they could be my father’s business partners or employees, but the suits they are wearing seem too expensive and they all look immaculate. The man sitting across from me looks a lot like Blake Crawford, the same chestnut brown hair and ocean blue eyes.

  “Excuse me Adelaide.”

  I turn to the man who spoke.

  “I just thought I would introduce myself. I am Mr. Huntington,” the gentleman next to me says.

  I immediately recognize him. This is Royce’s Father. They are literally a spitting image of each other. The light brown hair, big sea green coloured eyes and the same mischievous smile. How did I not put two and two together?

  “Hi, it’s such a pleasure to meet you. I am a massive fan of your son’s work,” I say to him, bouncing a little in my seat. Even though his son has been the ultimate dick to me this week, I still never thought I’d meet his parents. Well, his dad. He faintly smiles at me before being interrupted by another man sitting next to him. He gives me an apologetic look then turns his back to me.

  “Adelaide, remember. Not a word of any of this to your school friends, understood?” my father whispers to me.

  “Yes Father,” I nod, which puts a satisfactory smile on his face.

  After sitting at the table with all the random men for hours, I managed to indulge myself in a three-course meal, feeling completely bloated in my dress. I really hope my stomach doesn’t show too much of a food baby. Now that would be a lasting impression.

  Once the guests say their goodbyes and leave the house, I head up to my room to get in the shower again and rinse off all the sweat I accumulated throughout dinner. I just want to curl up and watch some Netflix in bed before I go to sleep.

  Putting on my pajamas, I hear a knock coming from my bedroom door. I go to open it. Disappointment fills me as I see that it’s not. My father stands in the doorway, his hand on the frame.

  “I have decided to enroll you in one to one classes for elocution lessons, where you will also become a debutant,” he says sternly. Wow, I did not expect that. I thought debutants were a thing of the past, given that Queen Elizabeth abolished the ceremony in 1958.

  “I didn’t realize they did that sort of thing anymore?” I say, which is clearly a big mistake.

  “Of course, there is. This isn’t a request Adelaide. You will obey,” he grits his teeth before walking away, and as soon as I try to retreat back into my room he turns around. “Oh also, I won’t be here tomorrow evening, I have a gala to attend.”

  Maybe it’s the same Gala the Crawford’s are off to? For a second, I wonder why I wasn’t invited, but also thank god I wasn’t

  “I’ll be going back to the academy tomorrow anyway, I have loads of studying to do,” I tell him.

  He doesn’t acknowledge me. Rather, he saunters off down the hall into the east wing. I haven’t been that way yet but apparently Mrs. Blossom says its off limits to anyone but my father and certain staff.

  Thankfully, after a few minutes I’ve settled into my bed covers and Mrs. Blossom brings me my hot chocolate with marshmallows. Oh yes. Now my film marathon can begin.

  Chapter Seven

  I wake up to Mrs. Blossom pulling my curtains open, the sun beaming straight through and hurting my eyes. I didn’t even manage to have a film marathon last night. After my hot chocolate, I instantly fell asleep and had the best night’s sleep in a long time. This bed is amazing.

  “Why? It’s so early,” I mumble, trying to hide my face under the duvet covers but Mrs. Blossom is having none of it. “Breakfast will be ready in half an hour Miss Adelaide. As it’s such a lovely day, breakfast will be served outside,” she teases. I throw the duvet off and get out of bed to climb in the shower for a wash.

  After I’d showered, brushed my teeth and gotten dressed, Mrs. Blossom leads me through to the outside courtyard where my father is sitting, reading his newspaper. Pastries and fruit are laid out on the table. I can already smell the sweet nectar of coffee and that’s th
e only motivation I need. I sit myself down facing the grounds and notice by the side of the house is a glass-covered structure.

  “Hey, what’s in that glass house?” I ask my father.

  “That’s the pool house,” he murmurs from behind his newspaper. My curiosity piqued; I might have to check that out later before I go back to the academy. I nibble on a few croissants and drink my coffee, enjoying the rays of sunshine on my face. After I’m done, I stand and stretch, receiving a “look” from my father. Before I go back to my room to pack my bag and ask Steve to take me back to the academy, I decide on a slight detour to check out the pool house.

  It isn’t as big as I thought it would be, but it has an average sized indoor swimming pool with a hot tub on the side. The glass doors fold back, leading to an outdoor kidney shaped pool with a waterfall feature, and a little bar on the right. Maybe father has pool parties here in the summer?

  After checking out the grounds of the estate I venture back into my room and find my bag has already been packed by Mrs. Blossom, left on the bed ready for me. I get dressed back into my academy uniform before I ring down to Steve to have the car ready in five minutes. When I get downstairs, he is waiting for me outside next to the Bentley, talking to someone else. As soon as he sees me, he nods and opens the back door for me to slide in. Once I am settled in, Steve drives out of the driveway and onto the main road.

  “Going back so soon Miss?” he asks.

  “Yes, I have so much studying to do so I thought I’d go back,” I say. Hopefully, he doesn’t ask too many questions. Once again, I’m not really in the conversing mood. I decide to use this time to read a book for my English Lit class.

  Arriving at the academy in the late afternoon, I drop my bag off at the dorm and decide to head to the dining hall to grab a bite to eat. I doubt I’ll have any food later at the club, so I best eat something now. The dining hall is empty, as expected, which I am grateful for. I order myself a light meal of steak stir fry, which hopefully won’t bloat me out too much. I still haven’t decided what to wear but going by what Samantha was wearing, it seems as though the requirement was smart casual.